Your Own Blood Trio: Tangled Webs
by Elfling1
Summary: Sequel to YOB Trio: Voldemort's Daughter. Attention! Important announcement! If you haven't read this fic, please do so. Right now.
1. Party On

Bryan Quirrell sneaked quietly up next to the gray stone wall of the Malfoy mansion. He was dressed, as usual, in black robes and a black hood that covered his scarred face. He paused, quickly assessing the large cracks in the stones, and reached up to a likely looking handhold.  
  
"Halt!" shouted a rough voice. Bryan froze as a surly looking security wizard marched over.  
  
"What are you doing here?" the man growled, squinting at Bryan.  
  
Bryan slipped away from the wall and cringed before the guard's menacing glare. "I-I'm s-sorry," he stuttered in a high, quavering voice. "I was ju- just, I was ju-just h-hoping - "  
  
Bryan's hand shot forward and hit the guard's nose with a sickening crack. The wizard collapsed without a sound.  
  
"That I wouldn't have to break your nose," Bryan finished quietly. Without further ado he swarmed up the mossy stone and swung himself into the open window. Avery was waiting for him.  
  
"I thought you were supposed to be the peace-loving Unicorn Boy now," Avery said mildly, crossing the floor to look down at the slumbering guard below.  
  
"Old habits die hard," said Bryan with a shrug. "Where's Snape?"  
  
There was a soft chattering noise from the corner, and a small mongoose head poked out of the shadows, red eyes gleaming. Swiftly, the lithe form sprang up onto Avery's shoulder.  
  
"I still can't get over that you're an Animagi," Avery muttered to the small animal, then turned to Bryan. "All right, the game plan is - you protect the escape route, I distract Malfoy, and Snape does.whatever he's going to do."  
  
"Be careful," Bryan advised. "Malfoy's smart enough to guess if you overplay your part." Bryan paused. "And we need a name for Snape's Animagi."  
  
"Yeah," said Avery with a grin. "How about Fluffy?" There was a loud hiss from his shoulder. "Butterscotch? Foo-foo? Hey, how about - ow!" Avery jerked sideways and the mongoose fell to the floor. It landed, cat-like, on its feet. Avery was holding his ear.  
  
"He bit me!" Avery yelled. "He bit my ear!"  
  
"What did you expect?" asked Bryan mildly, but beneath his hood he was grinning. "How about Snap?"  
  
Avery let go of his ear and chuckled. "Yeah - Snap, Snape, that's pretty good." The mongoose on the floor gave an agreeing chatter and bounded to the door. Avery followed, leaving Bryan alone in the dark room.  
  
  
  
He loved being an Animagi. Snape - or Snap - darted around the feet of the Death Eaters and the other guests, nearly too fast to be seen. Using his keen nose, he worked his way closer and closer to the Malfoys.  
  
Draco was there, looking faintly uncomfortable. Even from a distance Snap could feel his fear. Snap the mongoose was puzzled, but then Snape the human remembered - Draco, for the time being, was divided in his loyalties. On the one half tugged Erin Kristoff, the leader of Slytherin (also, Snape suspected, Malfoy's crush) - on the other was his family and his former loyalties. Not a comfortable position to be in, especially at this party.  
  
He was much closer now, enough to smell the snake beneath Lucius' human exterior. Snap bristled, his tail bushy with instinctive hate. With difficulty he stilled the war cry rising in his throat and leaped upon a rickety table to Lucius' back. Carefully, he stretched out one paw to Lucius' cane, which his friend was holding loosely. It was nearly too far to reach, but he had just about managed to touch the dark handle when Draco spotted him.  
  
The boy's gray eyes narrowed, and he opened his mouth. Frantically Snap shook his head, an unusual gesture in any animal, and Draco's eyes widened. He looked faintly panicked, but with difficulty he turned his back on the scene behind him. Snap let out his breath in a 'whoosh'. Draco would not help, but neither would he hinder.  
  
His claws hooked into the ebony and began to pull. Carefully, carefully, Lucius must not notice - there. Lucius' wand, concealed within the cane, was in his grasp. Snap pulled back the prize with a faint croon of victory. At this point, the table tipped, and with a squawk Snap fell to the floor.  
  
The Malfoys turned. Everybody turned. And everybody saw a small, rust- colored mongoose crouching on the floor, a wand in his mouth. It was a few seconds before anyone moved, and when they did, Avery was the first.  
  
"After it!" Avery shouted, flinging himself forward and knocking down Narcissa. Startled out of his moment of shock, Snap flung himself forward, racing up the stone stairs to the escape route. Behind him, Avery continued to create chaos.  
  
"I got it! Oh, sorry Goyle - there it is, behind the couch! Ouch, I didn't mean to bump you, really - "  
  
Bryan was waiting. Swiftly he flung open the windows as Snap streaked into the room. Snap leaped up onto Bryan's shoulder, and Bryan swung himself down the wall to where Wind Runner was waiting.  
  
"Are you telling me," growled Moody to his old friend Dumbledore, "that Snape went to all that risk to retrieve a wand?!"  
  
"Lucius Malfoy's wand," said Dumbledore. "The most powerful of the Death Eaters, now temporarily unarmed. Although not for long, I'm sure."  
  
"But we're nowhere near ready for an attack on Voldemort!" said Moody, shoving his chair away and standing. His wooden leg clunked as he paced up and down. "Why steal it now?"  
  
Dumbledore looked down his half-moon spectacles, his voice calm. "Severus and Bryan believe that there's a list of all the Death Eaters charmed into the wood."  
  
Moody grunted, looking a little mollified, then suddenly scowled again. "Snape and Quirrell, the last two people on Earth I would trust."  
  
Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. "I trust them, Alastor."  
  
Moody looked at his friend in exasperation, then sighed and changed the subject. "Are you sure they can find the list?"  
  
"Are you sure you can find the list?" Severus asked.  
  
Bryan was bent over the wand, his scarred face intent. "Positive," he said assuredly. "I'm a prodigy, remember?" Bryan looked up suddenly. "Where's Erin?"  
  
"Weasley's," said Severus sourly, and Bryan smiled slightly.  
  
"With Harry Potter, I presume?" Bryan asked lightly. "You had better watch out for those two, Snape. I have it on good authority that they're very interested in each other."  
  
Severus' face twisted in anger, and he stalked out of the room, slamming the door shut. Bryan chuckled and turned back to his work. 


	2. Headaches

Hello, readers! Sorry this one took me so long. My computer was totally screwed up and I couldn't post and then I was too lazy to e-mail it to the laptop - so! Here it is, compliments of Elfling. Like my paragraph seperaters?  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
"Yaaaaaahhhhh!" screeched Erin, flying down the Burrow's stairs and colliding with Harry Potter. Harry yelped and they fell to the floor in a tangled mess.  
  
"Erin, are you insane?!" shouted Harry as they struggled to disengage themselves.  
  
"Just wishing you a Happy Birthday," said Erin innocently as she sat up.  
  
"Is it really? I'd forgotten all about it."  
  
Erin gave him a disbelieving look. "You forgot your birthday? That's sad, Harry."  
  
"Yeah, I know," grinned Harry, pushing his glasses back up his nose. He stood, then reached down to help Erin up.  
  
Suddenly he stopped and cried out, clapping his hand to his scar. Erin had only a second to wonder at this before a searing pain shot through the scar next to her eye. She pressed her hand against it and bent over, but it was already fading to a dull burn.  
  
She looked up at Harry.  
  
Harry looked down at her.  
  
"Hey, Harry! Happy Birthday!" said Ron, coming down the stairs with a huge grin on his freckled face. He stopped and looked between Erin and Harry, the grin fading.  
  
"Is something wrong?" asked Hermione behind Ron, pulling her cloak on.  
  
Erin opened her mouth, but Harry cut her off. "Nothing. Except that Erin saw fit to attack me."  
  
He looked directly at Erin as he spoke. Don't tell them now, his bright green eyes said. She gave him a tiny nod and turned to their friends with a blinding smile on her face.  
  
"Hey, just my way of wishing him a Happy Birthday!" she said with a giggle. She stood up quickly. Ron and Hermione looked faintly distrustful, but Erin continued on as if nothing had happened. "Are we going somewhere?"  
  
"Yeah," said Ron, "Dad's taking us to Diagon Alley."  
  
"Okay, just give me a second," said Erin rapidly. She rushed up to Percy's room, then paused and looked back down the stairs. "Oh, Ron, you did send the letter to my parents, right?"  
  
Ron was deep in a discussion of broomsticks with Harry. He gave an absent- minded nod to Erin.  
  
"Good," said Erin, and ran back up the stairs. Percy opened the door just as she reached it, looking extremely irritated.  
  
"Hi, Percy," said Erin before Percy could get a word in. "Could I borrow Hermes really quick? It won't take more than half a day, and everybody's else's owls are out."  
  
Percy whistled for Hermes, and the owl settled onto Percy's arm, as smug- looking as his owner. Percy handed him reluctantly to Erin.  
  
"Don't wear him out. I've got to get a letter to my girlfriend."  
  
"Right," said Erin, and hurried to the room she shared with Ginny and Hermione. She pulled parchment from her bag and quickly inked her quill.  
  
"Dear Severus," she scrawled rapidly. "What exactly have you been up to? Both Harry and I had a pain in our scars this morning, from which I gather Voldemort is not in the happiest of moods. In all seriousness, tell me what is going on."  
  
As she wrote, Erin felt that subtle change within her. She slid naturally into that other, more concealed piece of her, that of the Slytherin leader. Her writing became taut, her sentences blunter.  
  
"Have you contacted Draco, Sara, Calvin, and Blaise yet? They need to be prepared for whatever happens. We must remain on the defensive for now, and wait for the time to strike. Meanwhile, find everything you can use against the Death Eaters."  
  
Erin paused and, with a slight smile, continued to write.  
  
"Not that I need to tell you that. After all, you're the strategic one. Please, be careful, Severus. Love, Erin."  
  
In a few short minutes the letter was on its way.  
  
~*~*~*  
  
Severus walked into Dumbledore's office. The Headmaster looked up.  
  
"Is Bryan having any luck?"  
  
Severus nodded. "He says he's almost done."  
  
Dumbledore smiled. "Good." As Severus made to exit, Dumbledore stopped him. "Severus, the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher is almost here."  
  
Severus stopped abruptly, then turned to face Dumbledore. "Who?" he asked through gritted teeth.  
  
"Sheila Flamewinged." Dumbledore bent over his papers once more. "I think," said Dumbledore, and there was stress upon his next words, "that she will be of great help to us."  
  
Severus gave a short, jerky nod, his hands slightly clenched. Dumbledore looked up again, his twinkling blue eyes firm. Severus took a deep breath and regained himself.  
  
"When will she be here?"  
  
"Probably the first day of school. She will need your help, Severus," Dumbledore added, watching his Potions Master's face for a reaction. "Especially in the beginning of the year. I expect you to give it willingly."  
  
"Yes, Headmaster."  
  
"Tell Bryan good luck."  
  
"I will." And with that Severus left. Slamming the door.  
  
Dumbledore looked over at Fawkes. "We really need to teach him how to close a door quietly."  
  
~*~*~*~*  
  
Bryan was bent over his work. With the tip of his own wand he traced certain patterns along the wood of Malfoy's. Where the wands touched, a faint glow ensued. Quickly Bryan set down Malfoy's wand and pointed at it with his own.  
  
"Sesame," he said firmly.  
  
Malfoy's wand jerked and shuddered upon the table, the glowing lines brightening. Then, suddenly, a shimmering sheet of light rose from the wand's surface. On the light's surface were written names in a flowing hand. Bryan moved his wand up and down before the light, and the writing scrolled upward to reveal more. There had to be fifty names upon it.  
  
Bryan's scarred face broke into one of its rare smiles. He had cracked it. 


	3. Two of a Kind

It was raining outside. Amadeus, an up-and-coming young Auror, shivered slightly under his cloak. He and his team were standing outside the old stone house of their mark, and it was nearly time.  
  
Amadeus squinted at the gray granite blocks. "You sure you got the address right?" he muttered to the man next to him.  
  
The man snorted. "'Course it's right. Jacob Colbsey, assistant to the Minister of Magic, his wife Rachel, and their two kids Ashley and Sam. You want me to give you their ages? They were on the dragon-flamed list Dumbledore sent us."  
  
"This just doesn't seem like the sort of house the personal assistant to Fudge would have, Valentino."  
  
Valentino snorted again. "Listen, I have the list, I tell you where your mark lives - you and your boys pick them up. Got it?"  
  
Amadeus glared at him, but the scowl lasted for only a few seconds. Nobody could stay mad at Valentino for long. Particularly if you had been friends with him since Hogwarts.  
  
Amadeus took a deep breath. "Well, let's go." He raised his wand. "Explosivaria!"  
  
The wall shattered inward. Amadeus and his men charged through, their black cloaks streaming water.  
  
There were screams from inside the house. A young boy ran out, took one look at the Aurors, and ran away down the hall. Amadeus followed him quickly, his pulse pounding with his footsteps. Beat-beat. Beat-beat.  
  
There was a large wooden door blocking their way. One of the Aurors blasted it away, and Amadeus shouldered past him. Jacob Colbsey was sitting, pale with shock, at an ornate table. His wife had fainted, and the little boy and girl stood huddled in the corner.  
  
Jacob knocked his chair over and ran to the bookcase on the opposite wall. Amadeus saw Jacob's wand gleaming there. Without a word the Auror jumped up onto the table and then onto Jacob, knocking the heavy-set man to the floor. Jacob threw him a punch but Amadeus easily ducked and landed one of his own on Jacob's jaw. The man lay still, shuddering with pain and with fear. Amadeus carefully pointed his own wand at the traitor's throat.  
  
"My name is Amadeus Westerly," snarled Amadeus, flicking his coat open to reveal the golden badge of the Aurors. "You are under arrest for high treason."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
"Glad to be back?" Severus Snape asked his daughter.  
  
"I was until about a half hour ago, when you made me start peeling rowan branches."  
  
A ghost of a smile crept up Severus' face as he watched Erin assiduously stripping the bark off the green twigs. The smile vanished at her next sentence.  
  
"So, what do you think of the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?"  
  
Severus scowled. "I think she's late. It'll be halfway into the term by the time she arrives."  
  
"Are you going to sub for her?"  
  
"No," he muttered ungraciously, tipping powdered acorns into a green flask. "I need to teach my own class."  
  
"And Dumbledore won't let you, knowing full well that you would me most reluctant to give up the position once you'd started teaching it." That earned Erin a glittering glare.  
  
"Okay, okay," she grinned, piling the strips of bark into a pile. "I'll lay off."  
  
"Thank you," came the reply, heavily laden with sarcasm.  
  
Erin prudently changed the subject. "Where's Bryan?"  
  
"Off in the Forest."  
  
Erin's gaze dropped in disappointment. She tossed the peeled sticks into a box. "Gotta go."  
  
"Good night," said Severus, and he meant it. She smiled rather sadly at him.  
  
"'Night."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~  
  
(There's a woman coming,) said Wind-Runner to his brother, Dreamer. Better known to humans as Bryan Quirrell.  
  
(Where is she?)  
  
(About half a mile away,) said Flower-Scent, a pretty young mare. She trotted up next to Dreamer and Wind-Runner. (She smells strange.)  
  
(She is strange,) said Moon-Mane, Wind-Runner's mother. (There is something smoky about her scent.)  
  
The leader of the herd, Watcher, raised his head to sniff at the wind. His horn gleamed in the moonlight, and once again Dreamer felt distinctly naked without one.  
  
(She is not a danger,) Watcher told them.  
  
(Is she a friend?) asked Little Prince hopefully, shouldering up beside his father. The colt's gold hair was brilliant against Watcher's white.  
  
(Maybe,) said Watcher cautiously.  
  
(Not maybe,) said Vision. The others turned to look at her. Vision was the newest member of the herd, having only joined two months ago. Even so, the unicorns already respected her. There were reasons why she was called Vision.  
  
(Go to her,) she told Dreamer.  
  
(What?)  
  
(She is your friend.) Vision's violet eyes were reassuring, and slowly Dreamer slid off of Wind-Runner's back. He sniffed once at the air and then traveled in the direction of the strange, smoky-smelling woman.  
  
It took him little time to get to the clearing where she was resting. She was asleep, but Dreamer knew that she would wake at the slightest sound. He paused at the edge of the trees, his hands on the hood of his cloak. Then, his decision made, he stepped into the clearing with the hood down.  
  
Instantly the woman was awake, her wand pointed at his throat.  
  
"Who are you?" she asked.  
  
Dreamer was the name that rose to his lips, and he took a moment to let himself transition back into the human world. "Bryan Quirrell," he told her. Her scent was even smokier at close range, a hot smell that tickled his nose. "I saw you traveling through the forest and thought I'd see why." Not a complete truth, but close enough.  
  
She stood. Bryan blinked. The woman was beautiful, in that not-human way. Her skin was quite pale, her hair was dark red, and her eyes - one was a clear blue, the other a bright green.  
  
"Your family?" The wand did not lower a fraction. And then, to his great surprise, she sniffed the air.  
  
"You smell like horse, but not like horse - " she frowned. "You aren't human."  
  
"Neither are you." He knew now where the strange, smoky scent came from. His breathing quickened. He hadn't thought that there could be others like him.  
  
"What are you?"  
  
"I've given you my name," said Bryan, spreading his hands wide. "You haven't given me anything."  
  
"I haven't killed you."  
  
"Kill me and my family will drive you forever from this forest."  
  
She hesitated, then lowered her wand. "I'm Sheila Flamewinged," she said stiffly. "I'm traveling to Hogwarts, to teach there."  
  
"You're going the long way," Bryan told her helpfully. "If you go due west, there's a little stream that will lead you right to the grounds. Shouldn't take more than a day or two."  
  
"How do you know?"  
  
Bryan smiled, tightening his scars painfully. "I travel that way quite often myself."  
  
Sheila was looking at him, studying him, and for the first time ever Bryan did not feel he had to hide his face.  
  
"What's your other name?" she asked him suddenly, stepping closer. He could see the excitement glittering in those mismatched eyes, the same excitement that coursed through his veins.  
  
"Dreamer. What's yours?"  
  
"Ashes." 


	4. A Big Surprise

Bryan came to Hogwarts with Sheila. As they were about to enter, she paused and looked back at him.  
  
"You won't tell?" she asked, a flittering trace of uncertainty on her face.  
  
Bryan simply looked at her. A slight smile tinged her scarlet lips as they walked into the school. Bryan immediately turned into a shadowy corridor. Sheila walked into the Great Hall for breakfast.  
  
Dumbledore looked up, saw her, and smiled. He raised his voice to cover the students' chatter. "I'm glad to see that Professor Flamewinged has finally arrived. Student's, may I introduce you to your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."  
  
There was wild applause, particularly from the male students. A few even whistled. Sheila smiled, nodded, and took her place next to Professor Snape.  
  
Erin noticed that Severus had been very reluctant to clap and was now looking his coldest and most impossible. She caught his eye and grinned impudently. He glared at her, but when he looked away there was the faintest curve to the corner of his mouth. He carefully ignored Sheila and Sheila, who had been forewarned by Bryan, carefully ignored him. Therefore, breakfast was charming.  
  
Just as Erin about to leave, Henry Creevey handed her a note. She walked away to a deserted corner and opened it.  
  
"Erin," it read. "Fudge is coming to visit the school today and discuss 'policy' with Dumbledore. What say we organize a little welcome party? Fred and George."  
  
Erin reentered the Great Hall and signaled to Fred and George. They looked up eagerly and she mouthed to them 'You bet.'  
  
Three identical evil grins cracked over three faces.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Severus had also been chosen for a welcome party, albeit a more customary one. He walked beside Dumbledore and paid no attention to the Headmaster and Fudge's conversation. It was boring in the extreme. Also there was McGonagall, who was paying attention, Flitwick, who wasn't, and two people Severus didn't recognize - a tall dark man and a short blonde woman who had accompanied Fudge. They were both dressed in plain black robes and seemed extremely nervous. Severus studied them out of the corner of his eye. Where had he seen them before?  
  
They were walking slowly along one of the main corridors. And then -  
  
The lights went out.  
  
Severus swore mentally and reached for his wand, but a cold breeze stopped him. There shouldn't be any draughts so deep in the castle. A suit of armor clanked alarmingly. Suddenly Severus had a very good idea what was going on.  
  
"AAAAAAAAA!!" screamed a high-pitched voice. The lights flickered back on to reveal a hideous figure swinging upside down from the ceiling. The face was contorted horribly in pain and the whole attitude was of something - not human. Even Severus jumped.  
  
At this point, the figure stopped screeching and stared at the two strangers in the group.  
  
"Mom?" it asked. "Dad?" Suddenly it fell and landed, headfirst, on the hard stone floor. The mask - for a mask it was - fell off to reveal Erin. She sat up, rubbing her head and still staring at her foster parents.  
  
"What are you guys doing here?" she asked.  
  
"Never mind that," answered another voice from the ceiling as a second masked face poked through the hole in the stone. "Just keep going. Oh, bloody hell, never mind that, just run!"  
  
Severus leapt forward to grab his daughter, but she was already up and running. Fred and George swung themselves down and followed her, the Potions Master in hot pursuit.  
  
"What's going on?" shouted Filch to a sprinting Severus.  
  
"Catch them!" he shouted back. Filch and Norris joined the pursuit.  
  
George looked back. "Oh no. They're not allowed to team up! That's too much!"  
  
"God save us," said Fred. Erin just groaned.  
  
*~*~*~*  
  
"So you can see what happened," said Dumbledore to the Coopers. They were sitting together in the staff room. Tia Cooper nodded.  
  
"Will you speak to this Ron," she said, her voice exasperated, "and tell him to send his mail more quickly next time?"  
  
Dumbledore smiled. "That won't be necessary. I'm sure Erin will speak to him herself." Dumbledore glanced at the door. "Now, if you will excuse me, I'll just go and find Erin."  
  
The Coopers nodded as one and Dumbledore left. As soon as the door had closed, a chair turned to reveal a handsome, dark-skinned man dressed in bright green dress robes.  
  
"You're the Coopers, then? A pleasure. I'm Jonathan Avery," he said, and shook their hands. "I'm one of Severus' old school friends."  
  
George Cooper hesitated, then plunged ahead. "I'm sure you can tell us, then, what kind of man he's like."  
  
Tia was more direct. "How can he possibly care for our daughter?"  
  
Avery held up a protesting hand. "Relax. There is no one on Earth who would make a better guardian." Suddenly he paused and seemed to think for a second. "Except for - "  
  
"What?" asked George.  
  
"Well," said Avery with an absolutely straight face. "He can be rather - er- violent sometimes." He held up one hand and gingerly touched the bridge of his nose. "Broke my nose in the first year, and this was when we were only eleven, mind you."  
  
"And you certainly deserved it, if I remember it correctly," said Sprout, who was also in the room. She turned away from the tests she was grading to face the worried parents. "Jonathan pushed Severus all the way down the stairs, the big long flight next to the Charms classroom. Broke Severus' arm and leg. And then - I don't know how the boy did it, but he did - Severus managed to crawl up the stairs and punch Jonathan in the nose."  
  
"If only I'd broken his right arm," said Avery meditatively, still rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Then he couldn't have gotten me with that nasty right hook of his."  
  
Sprout ignored him. "The point is, Severus may be a bit hard to get along with, but there's nothing he wouldn't do for Erin."  
  
"Except maybe let me out of all the detentions he's given me," said a gloomy Erin from the doorway. Severus was holding her by the collar of her robes, and for some reason, they were both completely soaked.  
  
"That's right," Severus growled, hauling her up and pushing her into a chair. He glanced at the Coopers, then looked away. He hadn't recognized him without their Muggle clothes on. Feeling a little embarrassed at the memory of their last meeting - a memory which was only his, thankfully - he told Erin to meet Filch at the Trophy Room at eight that night.  
  
"Eight detentions?" asked Erin, looking up at him pleadingly.  
  
"Four for that stunt you pulled, three for running away, and one more for pulling us both into the lake," said Severus grimly, and with that he stalked out. Dumbledore caught the door just as Severus was about to slam it and gently closed it. Then the Headmaster walked over and sat down next to Erin and the Coopers.  
  
"And now," he said, "everything will be explained." 


	5. An Unwelcome Message

"Professor Dumbledore," said Harry, catching the Headmaster in the after- dinner rush just outside the Great Hall.  
  
"Yes, Harry?"  
  
"There's something I need to tell you."  
  
Dumbledore nodded and turned to the left, Harry directly behind. Soon they had reached the gargoyle that guarded Dumbledore's office.  
  
"Socks," said Dumbledore clearly, and the gargoyle sprang aside. Harry looked up at Dumbledore, puzzled.  
  
"Socks, sir?" he asked.  
  
"Socks," said Dumbledore firmly, and led the way to his inner sanctum. Dumbledore settled himself behind his desk and Harry eased gingerly into a chair.  
  
Without preamble Harry detailed the whole incident at the Weasley's house. Dumbledore propped his head on his hands and listened attentively, his spectacles twinkling in the firelight. When Harry was finished, he nodded slowly.  
  
"Yes, I think that is quite reasonable to expect."  
  
Harry hesitated, then plunged ahead. "It isn't just that, sir." Dumbledore raised his brows in inquiry.  
  
"I think," said Harry, blushing a little, "I think I can - er- see Erin's dreams."  
  
"When was the last time this occurred?"  
  
"Last night, sir."  
  
"Can you describe her dream?"  
  
"She was with Quirrell, sir. They were in the forest, and Quirrell told her to just be patient." Harry frowned. "There were some unicorns in there too. I remember Wind-Runner, but the others didn't look familiar."  
  
"Did they speak to you?"  
  
"Quirrell and Erin didn't, but one of the unicorns sort of drew me aside and talked to me a bit. I can't remember exactly what she said, but it was something about staying close to Erin." Harry frowned in his effort at remembering. "Something about 'great heights'." He grinned apologetically. "I'm sorry. I can't really remember anything else, except that the unicorn had really beautiful purple eyes."  
  
"Is it you impression that Erin knew you were there?"  
  
"No, I don't think she did."  
  
"Did Quirrell?"  
  
"No." Harry asked quickly, "Do they dream of each other a lot?"  
  
"They often communicate with dreams, yes."  
  
"Does this mean I'll see every one?"  
  
Dumbledore did not answer immediately. "I'm afraid I do not know, Harry. It is my impression, however, that the unicorn you spoke to deliberately pulled you deeper into the dream than you would have normally gone."  
  
"I don't understand, sir."  
  
"You would have remained a bystander, unable to take part in the dream, had not the unicorn spoken to you." Dumbledore leaned forward. "I think, Harry, that you and Erin have been sharing dreams for quite some time. You simply don't remember them when you wake up."  
  
"Oh," said Harry. He seemed at a loss.  
  
"Talk to her," said Dumbledore. "Every morning, try as hard as you can to remember any dreams you had, and then compare them with her. You might be surprised."  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
"Off you go, Harry."  
  
*~*~*~*~  
  
Severus stared at the scrap of parchment in front of him. It was small and ragged, but the well-formed script upon it was clear.  
  
'Street-rat', it read.  
  
Severus made a motion as if to crumble the message, then jerked his hand away. He knew all too well whose handwriting it was, and what the writer meant by it. Morosely Severus got up and paced about his office. He didn't want to have to deal with old enemies, not now. He'd even begun to hope that the cautious peace, which had been prevalent ever since the writer's son had come to Hogwarts, could last indefinitely.  
  
He'd been far too optimistic.  
  
Severus tossed his thick hair away from his face in his characteristic gesture. What he needed was an ally. Avery was gone, and Quirrell, whom Severus would have been reluctant to befriend anyway, had vanished. His glance fell back on the parchment, and a slow smile twitched at the corners of his mouth.  
  
If he was going to be named a street-rat, then he might as well use his street-rat sources.  
  
There was someone he could rely on, and she was only a short distance away.  
  
***message from the author***  
  
Hee hee, evil cliff-hanger! Sorry this one took so long to get up, but I had a crazy weekend. Don't worry, I'll try to get the next one up soon. It'll be fun! 


	6. Family

All right, this is a pretty confusing part of the book, so let me know if you totally lose track. Otherwise, enjoy!  
  
*~*~*~  
  
"Knockturn Alley," said the sign above the narrow, cobble-stoned street. Severus slipped along in the shadows, thankful that the dark doorways of the shops were mostly deserted. He was wearing, not his usual robes, but a ragged pair of black trousers and a loose gray shirt.  
  
In the center of Knockturn Alley the walls widened out a bit, creating something of a central square. In the very middle of the square was a large iron grate. Severus walked quickly to it, glanced right and left to make sure he wasn't being observed, and lifted up the grate. It squeaked as Severus peered into the inky depths. He hesitated for only a moment, then slid down into the sewer beneath.  
  
It was impossible to see, so Severus felt his way along the slimy stone walls by feel and long memory. Turn right, then left, then two rights, he chanted to himself silently, picking his way through the sewage. Finally he reached his destination - a stone wall.  
  
A single candle flickered in the darkness, providing just enough light to read the words painted upon the grim masonry. "Beware," the warning said in blood-red letters. "This is the Labyrinth of the Lost."  
  
Severus squinted at the wall, then reached up and put his hand on one of the stone blocks. His thin, agile fingers tapped out a rhythm upon the rough granite, and the blocks began to shift. The whole wall turned back slowly, allowing just enough room for Severus to squeeze through the doorway and re-enter his childhood home.  
  
*~*~*~*  
  
"Daddy, why are we staying at Hogwarts?"  
  
George Cooper patted his daughter, Felicity, on the head. "The wizards say we'll be safer here."  
  
"Until when?"  
  
George sighed. "Until the war stops."  
  
Felicity shook her golden hair in sorrow. Although the two were not actually related, Felicity did greatly resemble her foster sister. The little girl looked back at some of the students in the hallway. "And why do they call Erin "Erin Kristoff"? Isn't she still Erin Cooper?"  
  
"No," said George absently, "no, she isn't anymore."  
  
Felicity twitched her hand and fell silent. Once again she glanced back longingly down the hallway. "Daddy, can I explore? Thanks!"  
  
And before her startled father could say a word, Felicity scampered away.  
  
It took her a long time for Felicity to find what she was looking for.  
  
"Erin!" she shouted, and slammed right into her sister.  
  
"Felicity!" said Erin in surprise, giving the little girl a hug. "What are you doing here? I thought you were back in America!"  
  
"Some wizards came and got me," said Felicity simply. "And they brought me to Mommy and Daddy."  
  
"Good," said Erin, but she her thoughts were already wandering. She glanced into Severus' office and turned away with a puzzled frown.  
  
"What's wrong?" asked Felicity anxiously, trotting alongside Erin.  
  
"I can't find Severus."  
  
"That's the man who's taking care of you, right?"  
  
Erin smiled. "Yeah, something like that." She looked down at Felicity's wide brown eyes and smiled a little wider. "Hey, let's go down to the kitchens and get some ice cream."  
  
"Okay!"  
  
*~*~*~*~  
  
The space behind the walls, if not any warmer, was certainly brighter. Candles shone every few feet, and the walls, while still rough, were clean and dry. In the distance, Severus could hear music.  
  
He walked forward, feeling enormously self-conscious, and entered the main plaza of the Labyrinth. It was a high stone dome filled with booths and bustling people. Except for the thick shadows in the corners, it could have been broad daylight.  
  
Everywhere people hurried by, their footsteps in time with the jingling music of the minstrels. The people were of all different shapes, sizes, and colors, but they were all thin and dressed in rags. Nearly naked children played with giant pet rats, and barefoot teenagers kissed openly in the streets. Severus stood for a few moments and inhaled the air of the underground chamber, breathing deeply in the familiar scents of dust and sweat. Over in the far corner, he could see a whirlwind of motion where two young boys were slashing at each other with knives. Surreptitiously Severus felt for his own knife at his side. To be above fifteen years old and not have a knife was to court death in the Labyrinth, where wands were little more than sticks of wood.  
  
Here was the largest wizarding slum on Earth, composed mainly of Squibs and those who deliberately chose to leave magic behind. No one was quite sure how the Labyrinth had been started, but it had grown to enormous size - more from the large rate of children per family than by any immigrants. Wizards rarely, if ever entered it, and even the secret entrances were strictly avoided by those above ground. It was filthy, poor, and extremely dangerous.  
  
Also, it was where Severus had grown up.  
  
He skirted the booths and plunged into a side tunnel. A few morose beggars lifted up their hands, but Severus ignored them. He knew one of them anyway, a man who pretended to be blind but in reality could see a bat in a pitch-black night. The Labyrinth was full of such fakes.  
  
It was a good walk to his destination, but he finally reached the little cul-de-sac. The walls here were lower than in the main cavern, but there was still no feeling of being trapped or smothered. Outside the wooden doors set in the stone, a few children played a game with some marbles made of smooth stones. One of them looked up at Severus and ran forward.  
  
"Uncle Sev!" he shouted, flinging himself into Severus' arms. Severus hugged him quickly, then set him back down. The boy stared up, his blue eyes curious.  
  
"Come to see Momma?" he asked cheerfully, and without waiting he took Severus by the hand and led him through a door and into his sister's house.  
  
"Momma, Momma, it's Uncle Sev!" his nephew shouted, still impatiently tugging on Severus' hand. A woman, half-hidden by shadows, walked into the room.  
  
"All right, Christopher, that's enough," she said, a hint of wry amusement to her voice. "Off you go."  
  
Christopher looked longingly at his uncle's pockets. Solemnly Severus reached in and pulled out a bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans - an unheard of treat for Labyrinthians. Christopher crowed with delight and immediately ran outside.  
  
The woman stepped into the light to hug her brother. "Severus," she whispered. "You shouldn't be here."  
  
"Mariah, we've discussed this," said Severus, stepping away to look at her. Mariah was his elder by a few years, but she looked a decade younger than he did. Her pale skin almost seemed to glow in the lamplight, and her thick black hair fell to her waist. Where Severus' eyes glittered coldly, hers were filled with a flaming vibrancy that was not easy to forget. She was a beautiful woman.  
  
"Too many people find out about your origins," said Mariah firmly, "and you'll be out of a job, Severus."  
  
"I don't care any more, Mariah," he said.  
  
She shook her head, but didn't seem inclined to argue further. Severus changed the subject. "Where's Nina?" he asked, referring to his niece.  
  
"With her friends," said Mariah, sitting down on the low couch. Severus sat down beside her and hugged her again. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed having someone he could trust.  
  
"Now," said Mariah, smoothing her long gray skirt. "Tell me everything."  
  
She listened intently, neither interrupting nor letting her attention wander. It took Severus a long time, for it had been years since he'd last visited the Labyrinth. He started with discovering Angelina's will up to Dumbledore's idea that Erin and Harry could see each other's dreams, and perhaps even communicate telepathically. When he was finally done, someone handed him a glass of water. Severus turned with a start to see Nina, whom he hadn't seen come in.  
  
"Erin's my age," said Nina calmly. Unlike her brother, she took after the family profile of pale skin, dark eyes, and dark hair. Of all the family, Severus thought absently, this girl was probably the most like him. He nodded, accepted the water, and drank thirstily.  
  
"What do you want us to do?" asked Mariah. Severus very nearly smiled. That was his sister. She got right to the point.  
  
"Come back with me," he said. "All of you. I need friends."  
  
"No, I can't let you do that."  
  
Severus motioned impatiently. "I should have gotten you all out of this hole years ago, and quite frankly I'll be quite happy to lose my job. I'm tired of teaching, and if they don't want me to teach because I'm - I'm a street rat, then fine." He lowered his voice. "Blast it, I need you to help me take care of Erin."  
  
Mariah hesitated, started to speak, and then blew out a huge sigh in exasperation. "All right." She went to the doorway. "Christopher!" she called.  
  
The little blonde boy ran up to his mother. "Mommy?" he asked.  
  
"We're going to Hogwarts." 


	7. The Templas

"You're very up to date on curses," said Professor Flamewinged, "not to mention your dangerous magical creatures. So I won't go over those."  
  
A very large sigh released itself from sixth-year throats.  
  
"My specialty," said Flamewinged, walking out from behind her desk, "is Templa Weapons. Does anybody know what those are?"  
  
A single hand shot up from the sea of heads.  
  
"Yes, Miss Granger?"  
  
"Templa Weapons are weapons that are bespelled. The charms are usually for strength or sharpness, and almost all of the weapons have rudimentary personalities."  
  
"Very good, Miss Granger. Five points to Gryffindor." Professor Flamewinged walked forward among the desks just as Neville raised his hand.  
  
"Yes, Mr. Longbottom?"  
  
"I don't understand," he said awkwardly. "What does Hermione mean by rudimentary personality?"  
  
Professor Flamewinged paused for a moment. "It means that they - the weapons - have certain thoughts or desires of their own."  
  
"But they're just metal, or wood, or whatever they're made out of," said Seamus Finnigan incredulously. "How can metal have feelings?"  
  
Again Professor Flamewinged paused, then reached behind her desk and pulled out a sword. A number of students gasped at the beautiful engravings upon the leather scabbard.  
  
"This is my sword, Espyn," she told them. "Can you all remember exactly how you feel right now?"  
  
Heads nodded.  
  
"Good." And with that she pulled the sword out of the sheath.  
  
Erin had a quick glimpse of shining iron before the wave of feeling struck her. It was like nothing else she had ever experienced - strong, serene, and above all, powerful. Then the feeling diminished, and she was free to look at the sword once more.  
  
It was very plain, compared to the elaborate sheath. Only a single line of engraving ran down the middle, and the handle was wrapped in simple black leather. But the sword still gave that feeling of power she had felt so strongly before. Faintly, so faintly that Erin thought she was imagining it, she could hear a ringing about the sword.  
  
"Different weapons have different - shall we say auras? - about them," Flamewinged told her students. She took her blade expertly and made a few mock parries. Immediately Erin heard the ringing grow stronger, and the aura of power turned to one of pleasure and just the faintest hint of bloodlust.  
  
Flamewinged sheathed the sword, and the ringing and the aura vanished. "You will each receive weapons of your own," she said. "We will start with basic, un-enchanted ones to find out what weapons suits you best and to learn basic manuevers. Then, you will be able to enchant your own weapons."  
  
The bell rang, and everybody left reluctantly. Nearly everybody.  
  
"Ms. Kristoff, Mr. Malfoy, and Ms. Chang, if you will follow me."  
  
Puzzled but willing, the students fell in behind their beautiful professor and followed her to Dumbledore's office. On the way, Erin caught a glimpse of Felicity talking with a strange little blonde boy dressed in ragged pants. She waved, and Felicity waved back. The boy looked at the students curiously as they entered the Headmasters' office.  
  
Dumbledore was waiting for them. So were McGonagall, Flitwick, Severus, and Sprout. Severus nodded his head in greeting to his daughter, and she smiled back. Sitting in chairs were Harry, Justin Finch-Fletchley, and Erin Macmillian. Erin slid next to Harry as the others sat down. He smiled briefly, and somehow Erin knew without asking him that he was nervous.  
  
It's all right, she tried to tell him with her eyes. All she got back was a wry look of disbelief. Erin shrugged and Harry grinned. Abruptly Erin felt a very strong desire to lean forward and kiss those smiling lips. She squashed the thought and turned to the Headmaster.  
  
"In the beginning of Hogwarts," he told them, his blue eyes serious, "there were four creators - Salazar Slytherin, Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, and Rowena Ravenclaw. So much history tells us. What people usually don't know is that all four possessed Templa Weapons."  
  
Immediately Erin straightened up. This was getting interesting. She glanced over at Malfoy, who was also listening intently.  
  
"One of these has already been discovered," said Dumbledore, and he waved his hand to the wall. Mounted upon the stone was a shining sword with a ruby in the hilt.  
  
"Harry pulled this out of the Sorting Hat in his second year," continued Dumbledore. "There is only one thing we need to know. Harry, can you tell us the name of the sword?"  
  
For a second bewilderment crossed Harry's features, but then he turned away and closed his eyes. Erin could feel the current of his thoughts, stretching out to the sword that hung upon the wall. Harry got up and touched the shining blade, eyes still closed. Then he turned and smiled at the waiting audience.  
  
"Erchamion," he said triumphantly.  
  
"Thank you, Harry," said Dumbledore gravely, and Harry sat down. Dumbledore got up and lifted down the Sorting Hat. He handed it to Cho Chang, who put it on with a puzzled look. The next minute there was a muffled 'ouch', and Cho pulled the hat off. A bow slipped to the floor, every inch of the polished wood gleaming. Cho picked it up, closed her eyes briefly, and said aloud, "Kelsii." Dumbledore nodded.  
  
The hat came to Ernie Macmillian. He put it on, but nothing happened. Disappointed, the boy handed it to Justin. Justin put it on, then hastily pulled it off as a staff clattered to the floor. It was at least six feet long and made of strong oak. Justin put his hand down and came up looking excited and surprised. "Dovyss," he said, picking up the great staff and leaning it against his chair.  
  
Malfoy put on the hat, but almost immediately took it off and handed it to Erin. His face was blank, and Erin winced apologetically as she put the hat on. Two hard thunks hit her head, and Erin pulled off the hat. Two heavy objects landed in her lap - twin daggers, one with gold wire wrapped around the hilt, the other with silver. Both had an emerald at the base, just where hilt and blade met. Erin touched one, then the other, and looked up into Severus' glittering black eyes.  
  
"Anor," she whispered, touching the gold one. "And Ithil," she said, with her fingers upon the silver.  
  
Dumbledore rose, and instinctively all the others stood as well. As if on cue Ernie and Draco left the room, followed by the Professors. Only Dumbledore, Cho, Harry, Erin, and Justin were left.  
  
"You four have been chosen," said Dumbledore, "as the Guardians of your Houses. These are now your weapons, just as they were the founders. Use them. Know them. I fear that the time we shall need them is coming soon."  
  
All four students bowed instinctively, and Dumbledore also nodded his head. "You may go now," he said quietly. "Put your Templas someplace safe, and do not show them to anybody but Professor Flamewinged and each other. Professor Flamewinged will tutor your in their use."  
  
"Sir," murmured the four students, and like one they all left. Cho went down one corridor, Justin another. Erin and Harry stayed for a second, looking at each other but saying nothing. Then they, too, turned and left for their Houses. 


	8. Past Impressions

Hello, peeps! Yes, yes, "Anor" and "Ithil" mean "Sun" and "Moon" in Elvish. But that's not really all that important to the story. Speaking of the story - I haven't gotten as many reviews. Do sequels just not get as any? Did everybody go away? Sigh - oh, well. I'll shut up now.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~  
  
The food was delicious, but Erin wasn't hungry. She tapped her spoon on the table, then on the plate, then on Calvin's head.  
  
"Hey!"  
  
"Gotcha," said Erin with a grin. Calvin grumbled and went back to dinner. Erin looked up to meet Draco's cool gray eyes across the table from hers. He, too, wasn't eating.  
  
Erin couldn't stand just sitting here. She got up and walked toward the exit. On the way, though, somebody caught her robe. It was George.  
  
"Hey, Erin."  
  
"What?"  
  
"There's this girl I saw, just before going to dinner. Black hair, sort of pale, dressed in dirty pants - do you know her?"  
  
Erin was puzzled. "No, why?"  
  
George gestured with his fork. "I dunno. I guess - well, we thought she might be a relative of Snape's or something."  
  
"Snape?" repeated Erin, startled. "Why?"  
  
"You should have seen her," said Fred through a mouthful of chicken. "It was like looking at Snape, only smaller, and female."  
  
"Creepy," said George.  
  
Erin shrugged. "He's never told me about any relatives."  
  
"Well, tell us if you figure it out, okay?"  
  
"Okay." Erin paused to wave to Henry Creevey and then walked into the hall.  
  
*~*~*~*  
  
"Sock," said Felicity to the gargoyle.  
  
Christopher Snape looked at her incredulously. "Sock?"  
  
"Sock," she said firmly. The boy shrugged as the gargoyle leaped aside and the two young children entered.  
  
"Wow," breathed Christopher, gazing around at the portraits of former Headmasters. "This place is old."  
  
"Yeah, really," affirmed Felicity. She went to the desk and sat in the chair behind it. "Lookee! I'm Headmaster!"  
  
Christopher laughed. "I'm a wizard, too!" he shouted. He climbed up onto another chair and fetched down the Sorting Hat.  
  
"Don't put that on!" warned Felicity. "It puts you in your House."  
  
"Oops!" said Christopher, and he put the hat back gingerly and climbed off the chair. "You know," he said, wandering over to one wall, "I might go to Hogwarts someday."  
  
"What about your sister?"  
  
"She's a Squib, like my mum. What's in here?" Christopher opened a cabinet door and pulled out a basin filled with a silvery, swirling substance. The two youngsters stared at the contents.  
  
"It's like - " said Felicity hesitantly.  
  
"Yeah," breathed Christopher. He looked up impishly. "Dare you to touch it."  
  
"You touch it."  
  
"I dared you first."  
  
"I will not."  
  
"Wimp."  
  
"I am not a wimp."  
  
"Then touch it!"  
  
"Fine," said Felicity, miffed. She extended one delicate forefinger and touched the swirling contents of the basin. And was sucked inside.  
  
"Felicity!" Christopher screamed.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~  
  
"Hegemony," said Erin, and the door to the Slytherin common room opened. She walked inside - and crashed straight into somebody.  
  
Both collapsed to the floor. Erin scrambled to get up first, and was about to help the other up when she stopped and stared at the two cool black eyes glittering into hers.  
  
It was obviously the girl Fred and George had seen, and Erin could now agree with them - it was creepy, how much like Snape she looked.  
  
Carefully Erin extended a hand, but the other girl ignored it and stood on her own. She was at least two inches taller than Erin and a good deal thinner. She was rather pretty, too, thought Erin, when one got over that macabre resemblance.  
  
The other girl was studying Erin carefully, and she now offered Erin her hand. "You must be Erin Kristoff," she said.  
  
Erin recovered herself and shook the girl's hand. "That's me," she said cheerfully.  
  
"I'm Nina Snape," she said. "Your cousin."  
  
*~*~*~*~*  
  
Felicity lay crumpled on the stone floor. Shivering, she pulled herself into a crouching position. She was at Hogwarts, that was for sure - she even recognized the hallway. But she had just been in Dumbledore's office. Why was she here? Felicity got up and turned to see the library. She could ask Madame Pince for help.  
  
Carefully she walked over and pulled open the heavy door. "Madame Pince?" she called inside, but nobody was there. Well, not strictly true. There was one person studying in the corner. Timidly Felicity walked toward him, but then stopped dead as he looked up.  
  
"Professor Snape?" she asked in astonishment.  
  
He did not answer. He did not even see her. But there could be no doubt that it was her sister's guardian.  
  
"Sir?" Felicity tried again.  
  
Snape looked back down at the table. Felicity walked a little closer. She could see now that he wore the robes of Slytherin. She looked at him closely. He looked younger, like a fifth-year, and his hair was longer. It fell down a little past his shoulders, thick and wild as a pony's mane. But his glittering black eyes looked so bleak.  
  
Snape took a deep breath and pulled something out of his pocket. It was a small piece of crumpled parchment. "Street-rat," it read. He pulled out another piece. "Bastard," said this one. Snape tossed them down on the table and stared at them.  
  
"Blast you, Malfoy," he whispered, and got up abruptly, stuffing the bits of parchment into his pocket. With quick, smooth steps he walked out of the library. Felicity hurried behind.  
  
"Snape," said someone in a drawling voice. Both Felicity and Snape turned to see a boy standing in the corridor. For a second Felicity thought it was Draco, but then she realized it was his father, Lucius Malfoy.  
  
"Come with me," said Malfoy idly, and began to walk down the halls. Snape hesitated. Felicity saw that he was shaking slightly. Then he tossed his hair out of his eyes and followed Malfoy down the corridor. But Felicity had seen the look Snape had given Malfoy; a look of such intense hatred that it had chilled the little girl to the bone.  
  
She'd once seen a giant Doberman being pulled on a leash once, and it had refused to move. Its owner went to it and hit it on the head, hard. The Doberman followed its owner then, but it had given the man that exact same look. She'd read in the newspaper a month later that the dog had attacked the man and nearly killed him. She shivered violently.  
  
"I think you've had enough adventure, Miss Felicity," said a familiar voice behind her. Felicity turned to see Dumbledore standing behind her, his glasses winking in the torchlight.  
  
"Yes, please," she said in a small voice. "I want to go home."  
  
Dumbledore reached for her hand, and in an instant Felicity was back in his office.  
  
"What's that thing for," asked Felicity tentatively, eyeing the basin with great distrust.  
  
"It is where I keep my memories."  
  
"Then if you remember that, where were you?"  
  
"I was in the library the entire time. I just happened to be - a little concealed."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because I wished to be," he said, firmly but not unkindly. Felicity knew better than to push.  
  
"Is Malfoy still mean?"  
  
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Yes, he's still mean."  
  
"Is Snape still scared?"  
  
"No," said Dumbledore. "I do not believe that Professor Snape is scared anymore."  
  
"What was he afraid of? The little bits of parchment?"  
  
"That," said Dumbledore, "I will explain some other time."  
  
Felicity nodded glumly, then jumped as she remembered something. "Where's Christopher?"  
  
"He ran to get me, and he is now on his way to joining his sister. I suggest, little lady, that you do so as well. I will be busy here for a few minutes."  
  
"Doing what?" asked Felicity.  
  
"Changing the password to my office," said Dumbledore mildly, looking at her over his glasses and smiling. 


	9. Plans

Sorry this one took so long! I had it all written up last weekend, but FF.net wouldn't let me post, and then there was the HOMEWORK. So, anyway, here it is, and I promise to have the next one up soon.  
  
*~*~*~  
  
The whole Gryffindor gang was studying in the library, and Hermione was getting impatient.  
  
"Ron," said Hermione.  
  
Ron was looking past her shoulder. His mouth was open.  
  
"Ron!"  
  
"Uh-huh," said Ron.  
  
"RON!"  
  
"What?" he asked irritably, jerking his eyes back to the bushy-haired girl in front of him. Harry, sitting next to Hermione, grinned.  
  
"What are you staring at?"  
  
Ron just pointed. Harry and Hermione turned to look.  
  
"Wow," said Harry.  
  
"Who is she?" asked the ever practical Hermione.  
  
"I dunno," breathed Ron. "But isn't she something?"  
  
"I know who she is," said Neville.  
  
"Who?" asked Ron, his eyes still focused upon the woman.  
  
"Snape's sister."  
  
"WHAT!" was the general consensus.  
  
"No way," said Fred, shaking his head.  
  
"She is," said Ginny, beside Neville. "His older sister."  
  
"Now you're really pulling our legs," said George. "There's no way that, one, she can be his sister, and two, even if she was his sister, which she can't be, she's got to be at least ten years younger."  
  
"Tell her that - she'll like it," said a new voice from behind them. The Gryffindors turned to see Erin.  
  
"You know her?" asked Neville.  
  
"She's my aunt, isn't she?" said Erin, dumping her books down and pulling up a chair next to Harry. "Not that I knew it until, say, three days ago."  
  
"Is this something to do with that girl we saw?" said Fred and George together.  
  
"Um-hmm. Her name's Nina, and she's Snape's niece. Nina's brother is called Christopher. You probably saw him, too - little blonde boy, 'bout four foot ten."  
  
"Wow," said Ginny. "I didn't realize Snape had so many relatives."  
  
"Yeah, we figured he was probably abandoned at birth," said Fred.  
  
"So why are they all here?" asked Harry.  
  
"It's safer for them," said Erin.  
  
"Why hasn't Nina come to Hogwarts before?" asked Hermione.  
  
"She's a Squib. So's Aunt Mariah. They think Christopher might have magic, though."  
  
The curfew bell rang.  
  
"See ya," said Erin to the Gryffindors, and with merry good-byes they parted. But Erin did not go to the Slytherin common room. Instead, she turned left and entered her guardian's office. Severus, Mariah, and Nina were waiting.  
  
"We need more information," said Erin as soon as she walked in. "The list on Malfoy's wand was good, but pretty soon the higher Death Eaters will spring their comrades."  
  
"I don't think you realize quite how American you sound," said Nina with a faint smile.  
  
"I don't care if I sound Turkish as long as we get the info," said Erin, pacing back and forth. "Who do we have?"  
  
"Draco's our best chance," said Severus. "But I'm not sure if he's ready."  
  
"I think you could persuade him, though," said Nina to her cousin. Catching the frown her uncle sent her, she added in an undertone, "Well, he's crazy about her."  
  
"We have spies down in the Labyrinth," said Mariah. "If they're meeting in Knockturn Alley, we'll hear them."  
  
"I think we need to send Draco in," said Nina. "He's so close to them."  
  
"What about Pansy Parkinson?" asked Mariah.  
  
"She'll do anything Draco does," said Severus.  
  
Erin kept quiet for a bit, listening to her three debating advisors. She really was beginning to enjoy these "family counsels". It was so refreshing to have people offer their opinions, and not - like the Slytherin students - simply agree to whatever she said.  
  
"Erin, can you persuade Draco?" asked Severus.  
  
She thought about it, nodded.  
  
"I'd go ahead and talk to him tonight," advised Mariah. "And send him out on Saturday. That way he'll have time."  
  
"We must set up a communication line," said Severus, his long fingers tapping the table. "Just in case something goes wrong."  
  
"I doubt it will," said Erin. "Draco's smart."  
  
*~*~*~  
  
I wish you thought other of Draco, Erin, thought Severus to himself. I wish you'd see that he loves you.  
  
He was beginning to become uneasy. Certain - things - Quirrell had suggested to him were beginning to seem all too true. Not that Erin would ever really fall for Potter, but even a temporary infatuation could prove deadly -  
  
He jerked his head up, startled. Erin and Nina had already left. Mariah was looking at him, a slight smile curving her red lips.  
  
"You still lose yourself," she said. "Just like when we were children."  
  
"If only we still were," he said softly, looking down at his desk and the mound of paperwork that still had to be done.  
  
"I don't," said Mariah. "If we were still children, we'd be in bed right now."  
  
That provoked a rare, startled laugh out of her brother.  
  
*~*~*~*~  
  
"Do you think I'm rushing them?" Sheila asked the cloaked figure standing beside her on the Astronomy Tower. He shook his head.  
  
"They'll need to know the Templas soon enough."  
  
"I know. But Longbottom has already nearly cracked his own head open."  
  
Bryan thought for a moment. "Try him with a sword."  
  
"And have a child lose an eye?"  
  
"All right, try him with the sword when nobody else is around."  
  
Sheila laughed, her flame-colored hair sweeping across her face. Suddenly she stopped and flung her head back, gazing up at the shining stars.  
  
"Do you miss your family?" Bryan asked quietly, the words more inside Sheila's head than out.  
  
"Yes," she whispered back.  
  
"How did it happen?"  
  
Sheila looked down, across at him, back up at the stars. "My mother was an Animagi. A dragon. She transfigured a few too many times when she was pregnant with me."  
  
"And so you were born with some dragon blood."  
  
Sheila nodded. She looked across at him again. "And you?"  
  
It was Bryan's turn to look up at the stars. Through the darkness of the hood Sheila could just see the shimmering blueness of his eyes. "A long story, and one which I am not disposed of to tell."  
  
Sheila did not push him, because the animal instinct in her knew that, someday, Bryan would tell her.  
  
*~*~*~  
  
"Do you accept?" asked Erin.  
  
The cool gray eyes flicked away, then back to her own dark ones. "Yes." 


	10. A Parting of Ways

All right. I'm about to do something with my story that is either completely insane or a stroke of genius. That's right, I'm going to bring in characters from another book.  
  
Don't worry, you don't have to go and read the books. What I like about these characters is how ordinary they are, and rather than create my own ordinary characters I'd rather just steal these ones. If all goes well, then these characters won't seem out of place at all. I suppose I'd better tell you that they're from Rita Mae Brown and Sneaky Pie Brown's mystery series. You won't need to know any more than that. Promise. And here's my disclaimer: I disclaim any of the characters that are Rita Mae Brown's or Sneaky Pie Brown's. There.  
  
By the way, you don't actually meet them in this chapter. They're mentioned. I'll save introductions for the next chapter.  
  
*~*~*~  
  
At 12:05 on Saturday morning, Erin Kristoff was sitting beneath a tree on Hogwarts' grounds, listening to the birds and stroking the bracelet on her wrist. It was certainly a strange bracelet; it was, in fact, the communication line between Draco and her. She fingered the silken blonde hairs woven with her own golden ones and wondered what he had discovered.  
  
At 12:06 on Saturday morning, Severus Snape was sitting in his office with a stack of tests before him. He sighed, dipped his quill in dark red ink, and proceeded to scribble a very large zero on Neville Longbottom's test paper.  
  
At 12:07, Erin felt a sharp sting where the bracelet touched her skin.  
  
At 12:08, Severus was bending over and clutching the tattoo upon his left forearm.  
  
They reached the Great Hall at 12:10, just in time to intercept a very disheveled looking Jonathan Avery.  
  
"Draco's been blown," Avery gasped.  
  
*~*~*~  
  
Harry was flying idly on his broomstick when he felt a strange tickling in his mind. He frowned and slowed down. Six years at Hogwarts was enough to teach him when something was important, and this tickle was important.  
  
The tickle strengthened, then evolved into a formless whisper. "Come on," muttered Harry to himself, closing his eyes for concentration. "What is it?"  
  
Loud and clear, Erin's voice inside his head shrieked, "Harry!"  
  
*~*~*~  
  
Severus didn't even pause. "How?" he asked, his voice quiet and dangerous.  
  
"I don't know," said Avery, leaning against a table and massaging his ribs. "I was at my house, and I got Voldemort's summons, so I left. And when I reached the spot, I saw Draco tied up and gagged. I pretended that I left my wand behind, Apparated to Hogwarts' grounds, and ran all the way here."  
  
Severus was pulling on his cloak. "How did Draco look?"  
  
Avery's face was pale. "Bad."  
  
"Did Malfoy Senior do anything?"  
  
Avery laughed mirthlessly. "You know Malfoy as well as I do."  
  
Severus nodded shortly and walked out of the door. Before he left, he turned back to Erin. "And don't even think about leaving!" Erin stepped forward and started to protest, but Severus was already gone.  
  
Erin looked on, desolate. She had to help her friend, she just had to - it was all her fault! But how could she find where Draco was? She couldn't Apparate, she didn't even have a broomstick. Wait a minute. Dumbledore had once hinted something that might be useful -  
  
Erin closed her eyes and concentrated. : Harry!: she cried out in her mind.  
  
A few seconds passed. : Erin? : came the faint answer.  
  
: I need a ride. :  
  
: What's going on? :  
  
: Draco's been caught. :  
  
: Be right there. : Harry may not like Malfoy, but he knew that Draco was important to her.  
  
Erin opened her eyes to find Avery looking suspiciously. "You're not going anywhere," he said firmly. "For that matter, neither am I."  
  
Erin shook her head. Valor, thy name is not Avery.  
  
She felt a psychic tingling. "Sorry, Avery, but I've got to go." Avery stepped forward, but Erin pulled out her wand and gave him a brilliant smile. Avery looked at the gleaming wand, shook his head, and held up his hands. Erin grinned and ran out the doors, where Harry was waiting.  
  
*~*~*~  
  
It could be worse, thought Severus.  
  
But not by much.  
  
Draco was, indeed, tied up and gagged, and like Avery said, he looked bad. There were bruises all over his face, and his nose looked broken. Blood gushed from a headwound. Luckily, he was unconscious, and couldn't feel the pain.  
  
Severus was lying on a low hill, looking through the bushes to see the gathered Death Eaters. He noticed that a few of the Death Eaters wore red robes and red masks. Looking closer, he saw that Draco wore a red robe. Ah-hah. Red robes meant you were an apprentice - an acolyte.  
  
Voldemort was standing next to Draco, his red eyes shining. Malfoy stood on Draco's other side, his face absolutely expressionless. The Death Eaters were gathered in a circle. Voldemort held up his hand, and the entire circle became as silent as the grave.  
  
"You are my faithful Death Eaters," said Voldemort in his sibilant voice. "And faithful you shall remain. 'Why?' you ask. I will show you." He turned to Draco's limp form. "Enneverate!"  
  
Draco blinked and painfully began to sit up. His gray eyes were wide and frightened. He looked at his father, but Malfoy made no move to help.  
  
"Here before you is a traitor," said Voldemort loudly. "He sold you all for that Mud-blood loving fool, Dumbledore."  
  
There were murmurs of shock at this statement. Severus shook his head. Draco hadn't turned spy for Dumbledore; he'd done it for Erin. But Voldemort was clever enough to not bring his daughter into this. The last thing Voldemort wanted was his Death Eaters wavering between him and Erin.  
  
Voldemort raised his wand and lowered it at Draco. "Crucio!" he commanded.  
  
Draco screamed, then screamed again. His body shook and writhed with pain, spraying blood over the rocky ground. Voldemort raised his wand still higher, and the screams intensified. A piece of cloth fell to the ground. Draco had bitten through his gag.  
  
"Father!" he screamed. "Father!"  
  
Malfoy looked down coldly at his son, then looked away.  
  
Severus burst out over the hill. It was a complete surprise attack, but he was badly outnumbered. It was hopeless. All of these thoughts flashed through his mind in the time it took him to take out one Death Eater. An elbow in the gut and he was down. A fist to another's jaw and the second was unconscious. But they were taking out their wands, and Voldemort had not stopped Draco's torture. In a few moments Draco would go the way of the Longbottoms.  
  
Fury exploded in Severus - fury at Voldemort, fury at Malfoy, and fury at himself for letting his student become involved. He was knocking out Death Eaters as fast as they could come - if there was one thing he'd learned from the Labyrinth, it was street fighting - but there were simply too many. Severus took his last resort and become not Snape, but Snap.  
  
The Death Eaters halted completely as their target vanished. Only a few of them saw the rust-colored mongoose whipping past their ankles. Voldemort lowered his wand, and Draco stopped screaming. The boy lay completely helpless on the ground, gasping for air and sobbing quietly.  
  
Voldemort knew where Severus was. He'd heard all about the mongoose from Malfoy's party. He was raising his wand, and Snap knew there was simply no way to escape. All thoughts left his brain except for one thing; if he was going to die, he was going to die tasting Voldemort's blood.  
  
The little mongoose lunged for the wizard. The wizard raised his wand. And, if Erin had obediently listened to her guardian, in all probability Professor Severus Snape would never have survived that encounter.  
  
A broomstick soared overhead, and a girl's voice cried out, "Expelliarmus!"  
  
The wand left Voldemort's hand and zoomed up to the girl, knocking Voldemort to the ground at the same time. Immediately afterward four horse- like shapes plunged out of the darkness. And something big flapped overhead.  
  
The unicorns scattered the Death Eaters. In the darkness they looked like ghosts, their white manes and horns gleaming eerily by the torchlight. And the cloaked figure astride one of them looked like Death himself.  
  
"RALLY!" screamed Voldemort, lunging to his feet. "They're unicorns!" At this point Voldemort screamed again, because Snap had finally gotten to his ankle, but in the confusion it was hard to tell.  
  
The Death Eaters rallied a little. After all, their culture had always believed in the peaceful, utterly passive unicorn.  
  
(Heh) said Wind-Runner.  
  
(Humans are stupid) agreed Flower-Scent. (No offense to the present company).  
  
(None taken) said Dreamer.  
  
(They're coming) said Vision in a low voice.  
  
(Stand your ground) commanded Watcher.  
  
The Death Eaters charged, but the unicorns merely lowered their heads. The Death Eaters impaled themselves upon the horns, then fell as the unicorns shook them off. Blood stained the pearly horns in glittering drops of crimson.  
  
At this point, the something-big overhead decided to heat things up a little. The Death Eaters screamed, then fried.  
  
"A dragon!" the survivors shouted. Voldemort kicked the mongoose off of his ankle and flung him against a tree. Snap heard bones break but was satisfied in knowing that he'd at least gotten one good chomp.  
  
Voldemort probably would have killed him then, but he had other things to worry about: like complete desertion by his Death Eaters. "Apparate!" he yelled over the neighing of the unicorns and the fierce roar of the dragon. The Death Eaters began to vanish. Up overhead, two figures upon a broomstick shouted in frustration, but it was too late.  
  
Voldemort was just about to vanish when he saw the figure upon the unicorn. "You," Voldemort hissed. The man said nothing. And then Voldemort was gone.  
  
*~*~*~  
  
"Well," said Sheila Flamewinged, "that was interesting."  
  
"What's the dragon's name?" asked Bryan Quirrell.  
  
"Thorny. She's half Peruvian Vipertooth, half Swedish Shortsnout. Got a temper, too."  
  
"Very pretty, though."  
  
"I'll tell her you said that."  
  
Madame Pomfrey emerged from the hospital wing.  
  
"Will Snape be all right?" asked Bryan.  
  
"A few broken ribs, but yes, he'll survive."  
  
"Pity," said Sheila.  
  
"Oh, I don't know about that," said Bryan. "I was actually starting to grow rather fond of him. He's wonderful to tease."  
  
"Well, it doesn't matter," said Madame Pomfrey. "He's leaving."  
  
"Leaving?" asked Sheila.  
  
"All of them. Right now."  
  
*~*~*~  
  
"It's becoming too dangerous," said Dumbledore to Harry and Erin. All three were sitting in Dumbledore's office. What he was saying was like a death sentence.  
  
"We can't leave Hogwarts," said Harry desperately. Erin knew that he was thinking of the Dursleys.  
  
"You have too," said Dumbledore firmly. "You two, Professor Snape, and Draco Malfoy are his three biggest targets. All of you have humiliated him, in some way or another."  
  
"And besides personal hatred, he has to kill us to re-gain his respect among the Death Eaters," said Erin quietly. Dumbledore nodded approvingly, but his eyes were sad. He hated times like these, when children were forced to learn such strategy just to survive.  
  
"Harry, you and Draco are going with Mariah Snape to the Labyrinth."  
  
Harry was still struggling with leaving. "But Hogwarts is safer. You're here, there are enchantments - "  
  
"Enchantments that he has studied, Harry. And I am not all- powerful." Dumbledore leaned forward, his blue eyes intense and his words curt. "I don't want to lose any of you. It will be far better to put Voldemort in a situation he hasn't studied, then to keep you in the very school he attended!"  
  
Harry and Erin fell silent. Then Erin spoke up. "Where will Severus and I be going?"  
  
"You'll be going back to America. We've arranged for you to rent rooms from a woman named Mary Minor Haristeen."  
  
"Where in America?"  
  
"Crozet, Virginia." 


	11. First Day

Mary Minor Haristeen, known to her friends as "Harry", was doing her job – sweeping the post office and catching up on the gossip. The youngest postmistress in Crozet's history, her main duties were to distribute the mail and to distribute the news.

"And the poor man was so drunk, Mim had to lend him a room for the night," said her companion, Mrs. Hogendobber. "If only Sam would come to the Church of the Holy Light, I'm sure that – "

"Yes, Miranda," said Harry.

"Are you interrupting me?"

"Yes, Miranda."

Mrs. Hogendobber, a plump woman a good deal older than the thirty-something Harry, swelled up. "Really, Harry, this is no joking matter – "

"Yes, Miranda."

At which point Miranda stopped and shook her head. Her bright red lips curled up wickedly.

"Well, if you don't want to hear me, then I suppose you don't want these cinnamon rolls either."

"I thought you only baked in the mornings."

"Well, while you were having lunch, business was so slow that I decided to make some more."

_I want cinnamon rolls, _said Tee Tucker, Harry's corgi. She raised her head and perked her ears. All the humans heard was a bark.

"Quiet, Tucker, we'll feed you in a minute."

_If you want the food, short legs,_ said Pewter, an enormously fat gray cat, _you have to go and get it._

Yeah, but I get in trouble for stealing it.

Watch the master. And with that Pewter leaped atop of the counter and snagged a piece of fresh cinnamon roll, leaping off before Miranda could catch her.

"Really, Harry, that cat's a menace."

_Hee-hee_, came the reply.

"How's Tracy?" Harry asked, her mouth full. Tracy was Miranda's old high-school boyfriend. A widower, he and Miranda had "re-connected" at their fiftieth reunion. Tracy was now in the act of moving to Crozet.

"He's finally sold the house in Hawaii, and he says he'll be here in about two months."

"That's great," said Harry with a smile. It was wonderful to see her old friend rejuvenated. Ever since her husband's death nine years ago, Mrs. Hoggendobber had become immersed in her church and in food. Now, with Tracy back on the scene, Mrs. Hoggendobber was beginning to relinquish her comfort objects. She'd lost thirty pounds and had stopped trying to force Harry to come to church.

"Mail bags," sang out Rob Collier outside the post office doors.

"Be right there," Harry called back, snagging another cinnamon roll and running out the back door. The mail truck was waiting there to pick up her mail.

"Whew, Mrs. Hoggendobber, how many letters did you write to Tracy?" asked Rob, puffing as he heaved the heavy bags into the mail truck. Miranda ignored him with magisterial dignity. 

"Cinnamon roll, Rob?" offered Harry.

"Thanks," he said, taking it gratefully. "Hey, Harry, I heard you got some new boarders."

"Yeah."

"Who are they?"

"Stefan and Erica Taisce."

Rob leaned against his truck and smiled at the pretty young Harry. "You didn't answer my question."

"Professor Taisce is a chemistry teacher at an English boarding school, and Erica is a student there. That's all I know."

"When are they coming?"

"They should be here pretty soon," said Harry, glancing at her watch. "It's almost five o'clock."

"Post office closes at six, doesn't it?"

"I'm taking over for Harry while she takes them home," interrupted Mrs. Hoggendobber.

Rob thought for a moment. "A single father, eh?" he asked innocently.

"Don't you even start, Rob," said Harry, blushing slightly. Since her divorce four years ago, everyone seemed eager to pair her with someone – especially her ex, who was still in love with her.

"All I'm saying is…"

"You'd better go," said Harry pointedly, glancing again at her watch. Rob took the hint and climbed back into the truck, waving as he pulled out. Harry and Mrs. Hoggendobber walked back into the office at the same time as Mrs. Murphy, Harry's tiger cat.

_They're here!_ said Mrs. Murphy, skidding a little over the smooth linoleum.

"Mrs. Murphy, where have you been?"

Murphy ignored her mother. _They're here. Get up._

Who's here? asked Pewter lazily, sprawled over the countertops.

_The boarders, fatso._

I am not fat, I'm big-boned.

Yeah, right. You couldn't catch a mouse if it had one leg and was slow-dancing to country.

Where are they? asked Tucker, before the cats could get really nasty.

_In a cab. They'll be here in a second._

Let's go see, said Tucker, and she and Murphy bolted out of the pet door Harry had installed for them. Pewter stayed put. She was going to be living with these people for the next three months; who cared if she wasn't the first one to see them?

Severus paid the cab-driver, who drove away quickly and left them standing in front of the post office. He shook his head, trying to get used to his new haircut. Erin, beside him, fingered her brand new, coppery hair.

"Think this will be enough?" she asked him in a low tone.

"It'll have to be," he said. "Now, remember…"

"I'm Erica Taisce, you are my father Stefan, etceteras ad nauseum. Yes, I remember."

"Don't be snide."

Erin grinned mischievously. 

"Wait out here," he told her, and walked into the post office.

Harry looked up as a stranger walked through the door. He was tall and thin, with ear-length black hair and a hooked nose. 

"Mary Haristeen?" he asked her, his baritone thick with a heavy English accent.

"Yeah," said Harry with a smile. "You must be Professor Taisce." She came out from behind the counter and shook his hand. His fingertips were icy cold, the look on his face carefully neutral. Not a man, she thought, used to being the newcomer. "Is Erica here?"

At that moment, they both heard a loud barking noise from outside. Harry opened the door and the professor looked over her shoulder, an easy thing to do since he was at least five inches taller than she. A red-haired teenager was playing with Tucker on the sidewalk, slapping her hands against the concrete, then tackling the little dog and scratching her belly. Murphy looked on, amused at Tucker's instant adoration. Pewter refused to move off of the counter.

The young woman stood up and breathlessly extended her hand. "Erica Taisce," she said cheerfully. "I'm the intelligent one."

"Not as intelligent as you're about to be, if you keep this up," said Stefan icily.

"Can't give me detention out here."

"No, but I can assign two hundred pages out of your schoolbooks."

Erica groaned loudly, but there was a twinkle in her eye, and as Stefan stepped forward, Harry would have sworn she could see a faint smile touching the corners of his mouth. She caught the glance that passed between them and knew that these two had a deep connection. Harry sighed. This was only the second time she had had boarders. She hoped it would work out.

*~*~*~

Draco was up and about, but he wished he wasn't.

"What is this…place," he said. He would have said something else, except that he was talking to Snape's sister, which warranted at least a tiny bit of respect. Even if she was a Squib.

"The Labyrinth," she said briskly. The five of them – Draco, Mariah, Nina, Christopher, and Harry – were standing in front of a large slap of stone. "Beware," Mariah read aloud from the ominous red letters painted upon the stone. "Here is the Labyrinth of the Lost."

Beside Draco, Harry shivered slightly. Coward, Draco thought contemptously, until he realized that he was shaking harder than Potter. His gaze flicked over to Potter. Gray eyes met green, then Draco looked away. He still hated the presumptuous little celebrity, but they were on the same side now – he didn't quite know what to think. 

Draco closed his eyes in pain. That night, he had thought he was going to die. And his father – his father had just _stood _there…

Mariah interrupted his thoughts, to Draco's great pleasure. "Does everyone have a knife?" she asked. Three heads bobbed.

"I don't get a knife 'till I'm older."

"The other teens will let you off for a few weeks, to let you learn how to fight," Nina said to Draco and Harry in a low voice. "Especially if I remind them first." Draco shivered a little harder. He didn't want to think about Nina's idea of "reminding." 

"Just stay close," said Mariah. "And remember your names."

That was right, thought Draco. He was David, Potter was Harvey. They were part of the Snape family, or "clan", even though they weren't actually family. It was all very confusing. 

"Let's go," said Mariah, and they entered the Labyrinth.

*~*~*~

Amadeus the Auror scowled at the piece of parchment in his hands. He tore it in two and hurled it into the fire.

"Bad news?" asked his friend Valentino laconically. Valentino was leaning against a wall and picking his nails with a knife, which would have looked threatening except that Amadeus knew that Valentino fought like a gerbil. He was strictly into information, not battle.

"Fudge has called the arrests off," said Amadeus between clenched teeth. "Claims the list we got from Dumbledore has no proof of authenticity. We have to release everyone."

Valentino whistled. "Looks like Dumbledore and Fudge have had a little falling out."

"That's not all. We're not allowed to accept assistance from Dumbledore. Every."

Valentino dropped his knife and stood up. "Geez. Can't trust Dumbledore, can't trust nobody. Is Fudge nuts?"

"Maybe he's on You-Know-Who's side," suggested Amadeus darkly. Valentino shook his head.

"Naw. He's a pain in the rear but he's not on His side. 'Course, way he's acting, might as well be."

"You've got that right." And Amadeus turned back to the flames and continued to brood. 


	12. A New Life

The little ( ) indicate italics.  
  
*~*~*~  
  
"Well?" asked Susan Tucker, Mary Minor's best friend.  
  
"Well, what?" asked Mary - more commonly called Harry - back.  
  
"How are they?"  
  
"The boarders?"  
  
Susan rolled her eyes. "Of course the boarders. A single dad, hm?" she asked, flashing a mischievous grin.  
  
Harry kept her eyes on the mail she was sorting. "And his daughter."  
  
"Yeah, well, sometimes you've got to put up with the kid to get the guy."  
  
(Ha, fat chance), said Pewter the cat, lolling on the countertop as usual. (More like putting up with the father to get the kid.)  
  
"Trust me, Susan," said Harry firmly, looking directly at Susan. "It's more like putting up with the father to get the kid."  
  
(Hey, think she understood me?)  
  
(I wish) said Tee Tucker, her head on her paws. (Every time I try to tell Mom something I have to do something ridiculous just to get her attention).  
  
(Can you imagine what it would be like if humans did understand us?) mused Mrs. Murphy, the philosophical one. (They'd have to finally acknowledge that we're smarter than they are. It would probably drive them all insane.)  
  
(Yeah!) said Pewter, rising up and slashing air with her keen claws. (Ha ha! Take that, you lousy humans!)  
  
"Pewter, get down from there," Harry admonished. "Anyway," she turned back to Susan. "I think they're both still asleep. Jet lag." Harry made a face, having suffered from jet lag herself.  
  
"The pits," Susan agreed.  
  
*~*~*~  
  
Actually, it wasn't jet lag at all, but simply a very long bus ride on a very strange bus. Severus was, in fact, already awake. Erin was sleeping in the barn, which was kept heated for the horses. There was room in the house, but Erin had been entranced by the thought of sleeping on hay. Severus grimaced. He'd had enough of sleeping on floors by the time he was five; he'd learned to appreciate beds.  
  
Mary had left early for the post office, and he'd pretended to be asleep until she left. He didn't know why the deception, but it was better to be safe than sorry. Mary - he just couldn't call her Harry. It felt too weird to call such a beautiful young woman by a man's name, especially when it was the name of the son of his most hated rival.  
  
It was funny, though. He wouldn't have minded calling her "Draco", even though that particular name belonged to Lucius' son, and Lucius had hurt him far more than James Potter ever had. He wondered if the hypocrisy should bother him, then dismissed the thought.  
  
It had been a rush to leave Hogwarts, and now Severus was making sure they had everything they needed. Their wizard clothes were safely stashed away, and they had enough Muggle coin to last for years. A small, collapsible cauldron and a supply of necessary potion ingredients half- filled his own suitcase, whereas two long, sheathed daggers mainly occupied Erin's. He stretched out one hesitant finger, then stopped just short of the sheathe and drew back. They belonged to Erin, the Guardian of Slytherin. He wasn't at all sure what they would do if he tried to handle them.  
  
But she was going to start handling them soon, if he had anything to say about it. He would teach her himself. Ten years in the Labyrinth had taught him how to use a knife, and with his sarcastic manner he'd called on that knowledge more than once during that time. He lips twitched upward in the faintest of smiles. Oh, he would have no problems teaching her.  
  
*~*~*~*~  
  
The Labyrinth was like nothing Harry had ever seen before, and it was surely better than he had thought.  
  
He had pictured a dark series of caverns occupied only by old beggars and plundering thieves. Instead, he realized that half of the people in the room were his age, and looked mostly normal - if a little thin.  
  
He quickly glanced at Malfoy. The boy's face was as stunned as he felt. Christopher, Nina, and Mariah acted like there was nothing unusual about seeing a knife-fight in the corner next to a quilt stand, or watching a gypsy girl dance on a crude stage while children played marbles below. Then he realized, that to them, it was this that was normal. He wondered what they thought of his world.  
  
It was a quick journey to the place to the Snapes' home, and although it was dark Harry found it surprisingly cosy. True, he and Draco were sleeping on the floor, but it was certainly much more comfortable than a cupboard. Mariah gave them little time to relax. As soon as they had dropped their bags, she pulled them back into the little courtyard.  
  
"Nina is off warning everyone to keep off of your backs," she said briskly, pushing them so that they stood side by side. Harry felt Malfoy direct a look of revulsion his way but ignored it. He had a feeling this was going to be important.  
  
"There are a lot of rules in the Labyrinth, but the most important one is to never attack anyone under the age of nine. After that, they're fair game. I've spoken with the Council members - "  
  
"Council?" asked Harry.  
  
"Yes, Council," said Mariah, with a piercing look that reminded Harry a little of McGonagall. "They are elected once every five years, and make sure the rules are upheld. As I was saying, I've spoken with the Council members, and they've agreed to let you have some time to train. Until then, they're classifying you as Premies - "  
  
"Premies?" interrupted Malfoy.  
  
"Children under nine. No one should molest you for a while, not until you've learned how to use those blades. Now, unsheathe your knives."  
  
His knife was strapped to a belt just above his sneaker. Harry bent over, reached down, and received a prompt slap to the head. He jerked back up to find Mariah staring sternly at him.  
  
"Never bend down. Try again."  
  
This time, Harry kept his head carefully up and squatted a little, rather than bending over. His fingers brushed the handle and he quickly pulled out the sharp knife. He was holding it with his thumb on the top curve of the hilt and his fingers curled beneath, so that the knife was held straight out in front of him. To his surprise, Mariah nodded and smiled.  
  
"Good," she said. "You have nice instincts."  
  
And for the first time, Harry felt a brief touch of hope that this would work.  
  
*~*~*~  
  
"So, who is going to be the Head of House?" asked Sarah. She, Calvin, and Blaise were all sitting in the Slytherin Common Room. The chair next to Sarah was empty. Calvin avoided looking at it.  
  
"Nobody knows," he said, rubbing his dry quill absently over a piece of parchment on his lap.  
  
"With Malfoy gone, you'll probably be made Head Boy," said Blaise in her characteristically cool manner.  
  
"Huh? Me?" Calvin shook his head. "Not a chance."  
  
"You were a friend of Erin's," insisted Blair. The point struck home and Calvin leaned back to think about it.  
  
"You remember before?" he asked, smiling a little. Sarah grinned in response, and Blair's face relaxed into a brief smile.  
  
"The omegas of the pack," said Sarah with a laugh. "And then Erin came along, people learned about her parents."  
  
"And we're at the top," said Calvin. "I guess I finally understand what they mean about karma, and all the good deeds coming back to you three fold."  
  
"As long as we don't think about what happens with bad deeds," said Blair serenely, and all three broke into laughter.  
  
*~*~* Message from the Author *~*~  
  
Sorry it took so long! Every time I tried to log on to FanFic, it wouldn't let me! Okay, I know the chapters have been awfully sporadic lately. Would it help if I e-mailed people whenever I wrote a new one? Also, if you have any suggestions on who the next chapter should focus on - as in, "Erin and Severus", "Erin's friends", "Quirrell and Flamewinged", etc. - let me know. I want to keep the story balanced but still moving onward. Okay, now go review! 


	13. The Muggle Who Knows

Hands up everyone who likes my version of the battle against Voldemort better than Rowling's!  
  
(empty air)  
  
Oh, fine, so she's better. Gosh, I feel outdated, now that HP 5 is out. Oh well.  
  
( ) indicate italics  
  
*~*~*~  
  
Two months passed by without a single stir, and Erin had bitten off all of her fingernails.  
  
"Stop that," said Severus, yanking her hand out of her mouth and favoring her with his best scowl/glare. She gave him an equally impressive glare and settled irritably back onto the couch.  
  
"I can't believe Voldemort hasn't made a move yet. Come one, what is he waiting for?"  
  
Severus was silent, because he wasn't at all sure himself. "We just need to stay here," he said finally, "and wait until Dumbledore tells us."  
  
Erin told him exactly what he could do with that advice. Severus didn't even bother to reciprocate. He felt exactly the way she did.  
  
Their landlady, Harry, opened the front door and walked into the kitchen, which was next to the living room. Her corgi and two cats rushed up to her.  
  
(Mom!) panted Tucker, the little corgi, jumping with glee. Mrs. Murphy twined contentedly about her mother's legs. Pewter sat on the countertop and looked bored.  
  
(Stop drooling on Mom's shoes, Tucker,) Pewter commanded smugly. Tucker barked at her.  
  
"Hey, Pewts," said Harry, shaking a small can. "Guess what I've got."  
  
(Tuna!) shouted Pewter, leaping off the countertop and sliding across the floor.  
  
"Hey, Harry," said Erin, wandering into the kitchen.  
  
"Hey, Erica," said Harry, calling Erin by her disguised name. "Guess what?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"I saw a mongoose today."  
  
A very odd look came into Erin's eyes. "A mongoose." It should have been a question, but there was a flat tone to the words that made it a statement.  
  
Harry glanced at Erin. "Mmm-hmm. Probably someone brought it as a pet and it escaped."  
  
"Neat," said Erin, but still with that flat tone. She took a bag of groceries from Harry and began to put things away, unaware of Harry's curious eyes on her back. Harry knew that her boarders had been feeling restless and touchy in the past week, but this behavior was completely out of character for the girl.  
  
As a matter of fact, Erin was quietly panicking. When she had left the living room to talk to Harry, Severus had also left for the barn. And Severus went to the barn for only one thing - to change into his mongoose form and explore Crozet. Suddenly desperate to distract Harry, Erin turned around quickly, to find the kitchen empty except for Pewter.  
  
(Bad luck, kiddo,) said Pewter, her mouth full of tuna. (You're father's about to be busted.) Erin, of course, didn't understand what sounded like a series of meows, but she ran for the barn anyway.  
  
*~*~*~  
  
When Harry had walked in and Erin had gone to meet her, Severus had snuck quietly out to the barn. It was a long, low building partitioned into various rooms, occupied by the three horses Harry owned, a blacksnake, a barn owl, and Simon the Possum. He slipped into a little corner he had made, a tiny area surrounded on three sides by bales of hay. Crouching down, he began to make the transformation. His hooked nose lengthened even further and became a muzzle; his short, greasy hair became sleek and chestnut and began to spread over his clothes. Joints cracked as knees reversed, hands became paws, and in a few seconds Severus Snape had become Snap.  
  
Unfortunately for him, those few seconds were witnessed by Harry.  
  
Harry stifled her scream as she watched her boarder, whom she knew as Sean, become the mongoose she had seen earlier. The mongoose looked up with glistening red eyes, saw her, and froze. Then it quickly darted to the left, but Harry dove and caught it. Writhing furiously the mongoose gave off a rattling war cry and slashed at Harry's hands with sharp teeth. Harry cried out in pain and threw the small animal at a bale of hay. Stunned, Snap slid down and lay, panting, on the straw. As he saw Harry approach him again, Snap quickly transformed back into a human and reached for his wand near his belt. He was dazed, however, and Harry was just a trifle quicker; in any case, she suddenly was holding his wand and was pointing it at him. Severus froze.  
  
"I want to know," said Harry between gritted teeth, "who you are, what you are, and what you are doing in Crozet."  
  
Snape eyed the wand calculatingly. Harry obviously couldn't use it properly, but even in the hands of a Muggle a wand could accidentally do something dangerous. Very, very slowly he sat up. Harry's hand followed his movement, her face grim and determined. Snape's gaze moved from his wand to her face.  
  
"That could take a while," he said.  
  
"Huh? What's going on? Oh - drat," said Erin, who was leaning against the barn door, panting. "My wand's in my bedroom."  
  
Severus opened his mouth to tell her off, but a slight movement of his wand turned his attention back to Harry. He sighed.  
  
"Let me up," said Severus, "and I'll tell you as much as I can."  
  
*~*~*~  
  
The dark, handsome man was sitting in the library, his feet on the table and his chair tipped casually back. He was dressed in rich green robes embroidered in silver, and his expression as he read the Daily Prophet was grim.  
  
"Avery?" asked Felicity, walking up to him and swinging herself onto the table.  
  
Jonathan Avery glanced around the newspaper, smiled brilliantly, and folded it up and set it on the table. "Well, hello, Felicity," he said pleasantly. "How nice to see you."  
  
"Avery," said Felicity, looking him straight in the face, "I need to ask a question."  
  
"Certainly," said Avery promptly, the easy smile still on his face.  
  
"Why was Professor Snape afraid of Mr. Malfoy?"  
  
Whatever Avery had been expecting, this had certainly not been it. His smile vanished. "What do you mean?"  
  
"When I was looking at the Pensieve in Dumbledore's office," explained Felicity patiently, her child's voice solemn, "I saw Snape when he was in school. He was working in the library, and I saw that he was looking at little pieces of paper that said "Street Rat" and the B-word." She paused, obviously a little embarrassed at having mentioned a swear word.  
  
"Go on," said Avery, his voice uncharacteristically sharp.  
  
"Then he got up, and Malfoy called him, and I saw that Snape was afraid of him," finished Felicity simply. "Dumbledore told me Snape wasn't afraid anymore, but I want to know - why was he afraid then?"  
  
Avery was silent for several moments. "I don't know," he said quietly. "I noticed it, of course - how couldn't I have? But I never knew exactly why." He sighed deeply, but Felicity did not look away - she sensed that there was more.  
  
"You have to understand, Felicity," said Avery finally, "that Slytherin has a lot of politics, even more than most students. And the most powerful people are the ones with pure blood and lots of money."  
  
"Like Malfoy?" asked Felicity, her golden head tipped to one side.  
  
"Like Malfoy," agreed Avery. "And that meant, that unless we wanted to be shunned, we had to do as he told us. And Snape and I were part of his crew."  
  
"His crew?"  
  
"His group of friends," explained Avery hastily. "We didn't join until our second year, but - well, there wasn't a lot of choice. Actually, I think he wanted just Snape, but I was his only friend, I wasn't about to leave him to Malfoy's tender mercies." Avery scowled. "Snape's really kind of sensitive, in a way. Not the way most people are, you know, caring about friends and popularity and looks and stuff - " Avery waved his hand in the air to demonstrate, " - but he was always sort of closed up. He wasn't like he is now, not in that first year, anyway. He was a lot rougher around the edges, just kind of wild and reckless - and he liked to fight." Avery touched his nose in memory. "Duelling, too, not just Muggle fighting. Of course, he liked the Dark Arts even then, but he wasn't quite so obsessed with them. But suddenly, in second year, he just stopped. He was a lot more bitter, and hateful, and - "  
  
"I know," said Felicity quietly. Avery nodded grimly.  
  
"But that's all way off the point. The point is, Snape didn't like Malfoy, but he had to join Malfoy's crew because it was the only way he'd ever be accepted."  
  
Felicity frowned. "But Snape's always so nice to Draco," she protested. "Why would he be nice if he doesn't like Malfoy?"  
  
Avery shrugged. "Search me. Believe me, I've known Sev for most of his life, and most of the time I haven't the faintest idea why he does what he does."  
  
"And another thing," said Felicity. "Why would Malfoy ask Snape to be his friend if Snape didn't like him? Didn't he know?"  
  
"Oh, he knew all right," said Avery. "That's why he asked."  
  
"What?" asked Felicity, looking completely bewildered.  
  
"You see, Felicity, Malfoy was afraid of Snape."  
  
*~*~*~  
  
The dragon threw back its head and roared, hot flames licking around its tongue. It was gliding over the Forest, leathery wings flapping with ease. On its back were two passengers, both cloaked and hooded.  
  
"I can't believe you consider this fun," muttered the man, his arms around the woman's waist. They were both leaning low over the dragon's neck, the woman in front, the man in the back.  
  
Ashes laughed, the sound rising bright and clear into the stars. Dreamer smiled and hugged the woman's waist tighter, reveling in the sound. He bent his head and rested his cheek against hers, delighting in the touch of her smooth skin against his dark scars. She twisted her body towards him, her scarlet lips catching his in a long kiss. The dragon silently shook her huge head.  
  
(Humans) she thought in disgust. Beneath her, in the Forest, a violet-eyed unicorn was watching. 


	14. Important announcement

Attention, Attention!  
  
I have an announcement!  
  
THIS FIC IS UP FOR GRABS!!!!  
  
That's right! I'm deserting my brain-child for my other stories, which are in fact books! I'll tell you all if I get my first book published or not!  
Is anybody tired of exclamation marks!  
  
Seriously, I just don't have the energy to keep up with this fic anymore. In case any of you haven't noticed, it's a long one. A trilogy, really.  
For those of you who need reviewing:  
  
The first one was Your Own Blood: Voldemort's Daughter  
The second was Your Own Blood: Tangled Webs  
The third one will be called Your Own Blood: A Flash of Light  
  
Obviously, each part represents a year, up till seventh year, in which Harry and Erin defeat Voldemort. If, for some reason, reviewers out there haven't read Voldemort's Daughter, DO SO BEFORE CONSIDERING TAKING OVER!  
(there I go, exclamation marks again). And don't be intimidated by the number of chapters - they're a lot shorter than the ones in Tangled Webs.  
  
If you take on the responsibility of this fic, it means finishing up this  
third and also writing A Flash of Light.  
  
Somebody please offer. I'd hate to see my story go to waste.  
  
Elfling  
  
P.S.: If you're wondering about the books I mentioned at the top of the page, I've finished one novel and am working on another one. The first one has been mailed to a publisher, I got a postcard saying they sent it to an editor, and I'm still a little hyped. Just wait - in four or five months I'll get a rejection slip! Oh, well. It's not easy being a young author.  
Anyway, sorry for prattling - like I said, I'm still a little hyped. 


End file.
